


Acidity

by kimbleefucker (hihowareya)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihowareya/pseuds/kimbleefucker
Summary: "You offer mercy, but are quick to discard it if someone asks. You can't commit to anything- except me."





	Acidity

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no royblee... I been thinkin abt this

The sweet smell of citrus saturated the air as Roy flicked the butt of his cigarette into the sand. Smoke and ash and death hovered in the air around them, but didnt quite permeate the aromatic shield that Kimblee had constructed. Roy abenstmindedly watched the other alchemist's long fingers pick and peel at the small, round fruit, feeling an odd sense of relatability. 

The area that they were stationed in was in ruin, and so they sat and waited for the sound of the bell to usher them back to base. 

Roy hyperfixated on the way Kimblee used the curved edge of his meticulously filed nails to pick at the skin of the small orange, eventually breaking through to pull at it and tear it off ever so evenly. 

The smell was fresh and bright and enticing, nothing like the hellscape he had come to accept as home.

Piece by piece, Kimblee set the curled rind next to him and soon Roy felt his stomach turn as the skinned orb made a squelching noise as it was broken in half. Why should something so healthy and edible make him feel so terribly nauseated? Perhaps it was too reminiscent of the carnage he created here, or perhaps there was too much a likeness to how he felt inside. 

Kimblee set half on the rind, and held the other in his hand. The citric acid, orange and bright and warm, stained his pale skin. Roy wondered if that's how the blood looked on their hands. Kimblee tore it into slice by slice, delicately picking off excess string of the core and flicking it off. He turned and offered Roy a slice in the palm of his hand, centered perfectly against the crescent moon.

"No thanks, I don't really like oranges."

"Technically this is a clementine." His hand still extended.

"I don't like citrus fruit." 

"Suit yourself." Kimblee went back to delicately tearing at it. There were few words exchanged between them now- because Kimblee would do to him exactly what he did to that clementine. 

He would delicately pick and peel his skin off, breaking any outer layer he had tried to create.

He would tear him in half, pick out the imperfections one by one and discard then without a second thought.

He would tear out his very core and toss it aside, unnecessary.

He wound fracture the remaining parts of him into tiny, delicate pieces. And then, only when Roy was broken down into the smallest of pieces, he would- 

Roy was pulled from his allegorical anxiety when Kimblee turned to look at him after eating a slice, his tongue swiping over his lips quickly.

Roy watched him swallow as he looked at the Flame alchemist with genuine curiosity. Roy sighed and took a piece of the clementine and ate it without offer. It was sweet and juicy and unlike most of the things in this desert, so very alive; so very unlike himself. 

Kimblee pushed it off to the side and moved across the rubble they sat on to sit closer to Roy, looking at him expectantly. Roy knew what he wanted. Once he had Roy's attention, once he'd lured him in somehow, he knew the rest would be easy. And Roy knew he could never say no. He never wanted to say no. He sighed heavily and leaned over to kiss the other alchemist, slow but desperate. It was always so deliberate. 

Kimblee returned his affections eagerly, licking Roy's lips as they parted. Roy could taste the citrus on his tongue and made a low noise in his throat, almost against his will. Kimblee took notice and smiled against his mouth.

"Is that right?" He teased. Roy reached behind him to grab at his ponytail. 

"It tastes better this way."

"The clementine? Or me?"

"Both." Roy answered as he yanked suddenly, exposing the long, pale line of Kimblee's throat. He leaned down to lick and kiss at it, but he refused to bite it, and refused to let Kimblee bite him either. Kimblee would wear them with pride, but he would happily say where they came from if asked, too. And that could be bad.

He felt the reverberations on his lips as Kimblee hummed playfully at this. 

"It'll be quick." 

"Fine by me." He would not say no to any opportunity Roy gave.

Roy slid off the rubble into the sand, hastily pulling Kimblee with him to straddle his hips. Roy would have chastised him for his obvious arousal if Roy's own wasn't pressing harshly against it. 

Kimblee snaked his arms over Roy's shoulders and around his neck as Roy manhandled his hips, pushing and pulling Kimblee against him roughly. It felt good, and Roy felt stupid. Stupid, and horny. Kimblee was all too happy to follow Roy's lead, rolling his hips against him eagerly. 

Roy's ungloved hand moved to clumsily undo his pants and Kimblee's, tugging both of them free roughly. It looked obscenely inappropriate to him, but when he pressed his throbbing cock against the other man's, it sent sparks up his spine. 

Roy continued to thrust his hips up, grinding against the smaller alchemist roughly. Kimblee looked at him with glossy eyes and shallow breaths, his characteristic cheshire smile unwavering. He slid a hand between them- his solar array, smearing both of their precum onto his hand and over them roughly. His hands weren't as wide as Roy's, but they were longer and more slender, easily wrapping around them both enough to give them something to instinctively thrust into.

Roy could come like this, he knew he could, but Kimblee was so hard to please. Frottage wouldn't be enough for him, even if it was pretty hot. 

"This isn't enough." Roy stated bluntly.

"Obviously." 

It was stupidly hard work, Roy thought. But it didn't matter. If Kimblee wanted Roy to fuck him, he wasn't going to let up until it happened.

"Fine." Roy said. Kimblee smiled in satisfaction as Roy grabbed at the waist of his perfectly creased uniform pants, tugging at them enough to slide down to the middle if his thighs. "Someone could walk by. At least try to look dressed." Kimblee frowned at him and rolled his eyes.

"Of course, as this position in no way appears compromising or gives any indication of what we're doing. A perfect disguise." His sarcasm made Roy want to walk away, but it was too far gone now.

Kimblee propped himself up on his knees, rising only slightly above Roy. He fished around his pocket, setting the silver watch up on the rubble they'd only just been perched on, alongside the abandoned clementine. He eventually found the small tin of oil lubricant from his tent's first aid kit.

"Do you just carry that around with you?" Roy scoffed.

"You never know when the opportunity will present itself." Roy felt disgusted but let it pass, but evidently it shone on his face. Kimblee set the tin up as well, and Roy watched curiously.

"Let's say I hadn't brought it. If I had left it... would you still do this? Could we? I'd like to see..." He held his hand out to Roy's face, the array still slick with precum. "Spit." He ordered. Roy looked more disgusted than before. 

"You're joking." 

"Do you know me to joke?" Yes, actually. Kimblee would often say things to Roy with a straight face, wait for his reaction, then reassure him it was a joke with a mirthful laugh. It was always cruel. 

But now, he did look serious. Roy felt bile almost join his saliva as he spit into Kimblee's palm. He brought his hand to his own face and Roy watched in disgust as he did the same only somehow much, much, slower and thicker, viscous fluid slipping off his tongue into the crude mixture. He maintained eye contact with Roy the entire time.

Kimblee spread the slick over his slender fingers carefully, his eye contact with Roy never breaking, even as he reached behind himself to press one finger in; his other hand steadied himself on Roy's shoulder. Roy watched in fascination as it seemed to be enough, for now. He couldn't see, but he could tell when Kimblee pressed and second and then a third in by the tight hand on his shoulder, the flutter of his eyelashes and the labour of his breath. He could tell it might not be ideal after all, but Kimblee was never one to ask for delicate touches. 

After a few minutes his breath was a staccato and he was clumsily reaching back to grab at Roy's cock to steady him and line him up, when Roy croaked at him.

"Don't- I don't think it's enough. Use it." He commanded as he felt his tip only centimeters away from pushing into the other man's heat. 

"Oh? But it could be fun. Don't you want to see what you're capable of when something is truly raw?" 

"No."

"What will I have to say to convince you?" Kimblee always did this. Always turned what could and would be an easy encounter into some daunting task. Into some personal challenge. Roy found his interactions with Kimblee more trying than any training he'd faced in the academy.

Sometimes dealing with Kimblee was worse than his job in this genocide.

He was moving, now. Kimblee rocked his body in a steady rhythm, stroking over Roy as if to lure him in, as if to break down his defences. To peel his rind. 

"What if this is how I want it. Is it always about what you want?" 

Roy said nothing, but held his bare hand to his mouth to spit in it heavily, then held it to Kimblee's face to demand the same offering.

"I love you when you're compliant." 

"You don't love me at all." Roy almost recoiled when the pool of saliva in his hand threatened to spill over. He slathered it over himself eagerly. It wouldn't last long. He hastily realigned himself and pushed, Kimblee inhaling sharply. Roy wasn't sure it would be enough, especially when Kimblee started to bear his weight down, making a small noise in his throat when he finally let himself slump in Roy's lap. 

After a few deep breaths he looked up at him, feverish and wanton. 

"Was that so hard?" He waited only a moment to adjust before rolling his hips. Roy screwed his eyes shut, he didn't want to look. 

He could feel it though, feel Kimblee's weight on his hips, feel his arms on his shoulders, his breath on his neck. His hands shakily grabbed at Kimblee, anywhere he could grasp him, to dig in and hold him as Roy stopped resisting the urge to press further inside him. He made a noise against Roy's ear like a yelp but didnt stop.

"Do you know what else I love about you?" Kimblee asked through pained gasps. "I love that you will show me how ugly you can be. Anyone can try to be their idealized self around others... and this environment, it does bring out the worst in some, but you can show me something truly horrific..." Roy's head thrashed from side to side, muttering 'no' under his breath. "And that is, ironically... beautiful" 

Kimblee's words held strength and power despite his voice. Roy found it didn't matter how deep inside Kimblee he reached with his body, Kimblee would reach deeper inside him with his words.

"You offer mercy, but are quick to discard it if someone asks. You can't commit to anything- except me." 

There was truth to his words and Roy didn't want to hear it. He opened his eyes to see Kimblee looking at him almost lovingly, but cold. A stern interest, the love a scientist might show a prized specimen. 

One of his hands slipped from Roy's shoulder to stroke at his cock in time with Roy's unimpressive thrusts. 

"We could be here all day." Kimblee seemed almost agitated. "Come on then." He raised his body up then pushed down on Roy swiftly, and the corners of his eyes threatened to prickle with tears involuntarily. "Commit. End what you've begun." 

Roy grabbed at his hips aggressively, thrusting upwards. It had become a little easier, but still a challenge. Too tight, too hot, not enough slick. Roy's tried to push farther, aim higher- to see if he could press against the sensitive spot to make this easier. Now and again he felt himself rub over the other man's prostate and make him moan audio against him. 

Roy knocked Kimblee's hand away from himself and hastily stroked at him, smearing precum over and trying desperately not to grip too tight. Kimblee pushed his body against Roy desperately until he fell from that precipice and came hot and heavy, with a warbled cry, over Roy's fingers, sticking his hand and staining his undershirt where it dripped. Roy flicked his wrist to discard what semen he could from it before focusing back on himself, eagerly thrusting into the now overstimulated Kimblee in his lap.

He tried to ignore it the small noises of pain or discomfort, the involuntary flinching. Kimblee pressed his forehead against the side of Roy's neck, his breathing loud in Roy's ear. Roy felt him lick at his already hammering pulse and soon he was coming undone as well. His body spasmed and he jerked away from all contact in vain. 

After a few minutes of afterglow in the punishing sun and sand Kimblee finally pulled away from him and stood up with a sharp hiss, adjusting his uniform. Roy did the same and both returned to how they started: sitting on a pile of rubble, surrounded by decay, saying nothing. 

Kimblee absentmindedly reached for another slice of the citrus fruit and ate it, making a face as he swallowed it. Maybe it was the way the sun had warmed it, or perhaps it was the the environment seeping into what remained of it. 

"You know," he said. "I don't think I like citrus fruits either." But ate another slice with little reluctance.

"But you'll still finish it?"

"Of course. I started it."


End file.
